It must be dark
where you are,
shutting people
out,
before they have
the chance to break your heart.
It must be lonely
where you are,
hiding yourself
away,
before you have
the chance to see who you might be.
Little boy with
golden hair, you didn't want a sister.
You wanted life to
stay the way it was,
to be the precious
baby, the only one;
you never knew how
much
you were, and are,
the beloved son.
It doesn't have to
be this way.
The more you shun,
the more I seek;
the more you
spurn, the more I need to speak
the words we never
said,
to feel the love
we never found,
to hold the hand
that never led.
Little boy with
golden hair, you didn't want a sister.
You wanted life to
stay the way it was,
to be the precious
baby, the only one;
you never knew how
much
you were, and are,
the beloved son.
It doesn't have to
be this way.
It doesn't have to
be this way.
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